Realise
by LetsCallItFate
Summary: "Don't worry Luke, I get it. You love Peyton. I know, I know. I just always thought it would be you and me." She reaches for his hand, and tangles their fingers together, "I used to think about it all the time. Us. You and me. Our future." Brucas-Season 4


**A/N So I said that I wasn't going to write anymore OTH, but I was sick yesterday and ended up watching some episodes from season 2, and it made me remember why I loved it in the first place. So this is a little Oneshot of what I think should have happened in the last episode of season 4. Basically, Brooke gets really drunk at the party and Lucas takes her home. Reviews would mean a lot :) knock yourselves out ;)**

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She's drunk. He knows it the second he sees her, she's talking to some of her friends, but her eyes have a glazed over look and she's gently swaying. She's in her element though, socialising. Her smile reaches her eyes, and she doubles over laughing. She looks happy, truly happy and he's not quite sure how he's going to cope with her not being around anymore. He sighs and wraps his arms around her tightly, and for a moment it's like its last year, and they're together all over again.

"Let's get you home, Pretty Girl." He whispers into her ear, forgetting for a moment about Peyton and Chase and everyone else at the party, in that moment it's just them, her and him, Brooke and Lucas.

"Broody."Her smile is far too wide, and she excitedly turns back to the people she was standing with, "Look its Broody."

They smile and cheer and he nods and smiles awkwardly, before putting his arms around her and leading her back to his car.

"Where are we going?" She mumbles as she struggles against his hold momentarily, before giving up and just resting her head on his shoulder.

"Home." He replies, and he watches as her brow crumples.

"I don't want to go home." She whines pathetically, lifting her head up and pulling at his shirt sleeve, "I'm all alone and I don't like it. I want to stay here." She stomps then, and he suppresses a laugh.

"Brooke, I'm taking you home before you do something you regret." He opens the door for her, and she pouts but climbs in, automatically reaching for the blanket that's kept in the backseat. By the time he's in the driver's side, she's snuggled up, her head resting against the window.

"What are you thinking about Pretty Girl?" He asks, as he pulls the car into gear and reverses out of his parking space.

She shrugs, but turns to look at him.

"Everything." Her voice is softer now, and she sounds a lot more sober than she did ten minutes ago. He doesn't press the topic, instead focusing on the dark roads unfolding ahead of him.

"Where's Peyton?" She asks, her brown eyes fixed on him imploringly.

"At the party I guess, probably with Mouth or someone."

She nods, and settles back against the window, her eyes drooping.

They pull up outside her house a while later and she's completely asleep by then, her breaths soft and slow. She looks so peaceful, and he honestly thinks that he could just watch her sleep forever. But he can't, because she's in love with Chase, and he's in love with Peyton and she's leaving the next day.

"Wake up Pretty Girl." He murmurs gently, rubbing her arm in an attempt to wake her up. She stirs, but doesn't wake.

He carry's her in instead, her head resting against his shoulder, and her chest against his. He opens the door with ease; she'd forgotten to lock it, like always. He carefully manoeuvres his way to her room, and lays her down on the bed.

"Luke?" Her eyes flutter open, and he smiles at her, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"It's me Pretty Girl."

She nods, and much to his surprise her eyes well up with tears.

"Hey, what's wrong." He sits down beside her, but she pulls him down, so that they're lying side by side.

"It's all wrong." She whispers after a while, turning her head to face him.

"What is?" He replies, and she shivers involuntarily as she feels his warm breath on her face.

"Everything. This. Us."

"What do you mean?" She looks up at him, and traces a finger down his face.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

He nods, and she looks away for a second, before gathering her thoughts and meeting his gaze again.

"I thought we were meant to be together." She lets out a laugh, and Lucas suddenly remembers that she's drunk, or at least tipsy. She looks vulnerable though, like a scared little girl.

"I did too." He replies, and she laughs again and looks away.

"No, I really thought it. Even after you kissed Peyton. I said to myself, 'Don't worry Brooke, it's just a phase, he'll come back to you'." She smiles again, "But you didn't. Because I was wrong."

"Brooke..." She shakes her head, and puts her finger on his lips.

"Don't worry Luke, I get it. You love Peyton. I know, I know. I just always thought it would be you and me." She reaches for his hand, and tangles their fingers together, "I used to think about it all the time. Us. You and me. Our future." She sighs, and lets her gaze drift away.

"What did you think about?" He knows that this is dangerous, that he's playing with fire, but he can't help himself.

"We were gonna get married. You were going to propose, and tell me that you loved me, and you always would, and that we were going to be together forever. Then we'd get married here, in Tree Hill, in that big fancy church, and I would wear a beautiful dress, and you would look at me like I was the only thing that mattered." She looked back at him, her cheeks flushed. "Then after we'd been married a while, we'd have kids."

"How many?"

"Four. Two boys and two girls."

"That's ambitious."

"Not for us."

"Not for us" He repeats slowly, savouring the words.

"Do you ever think about what it would have been like?"

"What do you mean?"

She shuts her eyes for a while, her hand unconsciously drifting to her stomach.

"If I'd been pregnant last year."

"Sometimes."

"I think about it all the time."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I think it would've been hard, but we could've done it."

"Even though you hated me?" He teased.

"I never hated you Luke. How can I, when I love you too damn much."

She covers her mouth, with her hand, before dissolving into giggles. He doesn't say anything, he just watches her, trying to work out if she means it, or if she's just too drunk to know what she's even talking about.

"You're drunk." He settles for, watching as she bites her lip and looks at him.

"So what? This is the first actual conversation we've had in ages!" She rolls over onto her back and stares at the ceiling for a while, her fingers still entwined with his.

"I wish I didn't." She whispers after a while, her voice huskier than usual, and her eyelids closed.

"Didn't what?"

"Love you." He sighs, and stares at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I wish I could love someone else, anyone else. Someone that would maybe love me back."

"Brooke..." He whispers gently, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms forever.

"I'm sorry. I know you love Peyton, but...I just wanted you to know how I felt. Before I go away."

"I know."

"We could have been amazing Luke."

"I know."

Her breaths are longer and slower now, and he can tell she's drifting off to sleep. He absentmindedly wonders if she'll even remember any of this in the morning, or if she'll just figure someone took her home.

"Do you love me Lucas?"

He pauses.

"Go to sleep Brooke."

He waits until he's sure she's asleep, her breaths deep and even, and her head curled against his shoulder.

"Of course I love you Pretty Girl." He whispers into the silence of the night.


End file.
